


pour me a heavy dose of atmosphere

by slimelupine



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Autistic Martin Blackwood, Autistic Tim Stoker, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Martim Week 2021 (The Magnus Archives), Trans Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:55:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29362110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slimelupine/pseuds/slimelupine
Summary: Tim and Martin, and some lazy admiration.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38
Collections: Martim Week 2021





	pour me a heavy dose of atmosphere

**Author's Note:**

> Day 4: Body
> 
> Wasn't too sure what to do with this one but I'm happy with how this came out! Special thanks to Albert @snorkmaidxn on Tumblr for giving their input on this too!
> 
> Content warning for bare chests!

Thinking that Tim was attractive wasn’t, Martin knew, uncommon. He had a nice smile, one that invited others to smile back. It made Martin’s heart flutter a little, if only because Tim was incredibly easy on the eyes, as it were. He had a good sense of humor, too, and often if the smile didn’t do it, his jokes usually did. Or at least, resulted in one of those wry half-smiles, which usually seemed to satisfy him. 

Tim was smiling at Martin now, propped up on one elbow. He looked so stunning right now, his hair ruffled from sleep and his tank top giving wonderful exposure to his muscles. He had nice muscles, too; they were defined, but in a muted sort of way. They weren’t exaggerated, resting under a layer of softness. But they were visible, visible when Tim slung an arm around Martin and held him a little closer. Visible when Tim lifted something heavy up and it took some effort. Visible when he had his usual tight pants on. Tim liked having tight clothes on, enjoying the constant sensation of something against his skin. And it left very little up to the imagination, too, giving Martin a wonderful look at Tim’s arse and thighs. God, how he loved Tim’s arse, the generous swell of it, the way it moved when Tim walked and stood out from his body. 

Martin looked back at Tim, groggily, centimeters away from him but missing the sensation of Tim’s body. Martin wasn’t a cuddler, per se; but he enjoyed being pressed against those he was comfortable physically connecting with. He liked pressing against Tim’s back and staying there, burying his nose into Tim’s neck and pillows and sheets. Scent was an underrated form of comfort, an odd thing, when it was so prevalent in experiencing it. Tim smelled nice, like lemon and black pepper. His sheets smelled nice, not quite the same, but fresh, clean. It became a smell Martin could relax to, fall asleep with. 

“Hey,” Tim nudged Martin’s foot from under the duvet, “you awake?”

“Not really,” mumbled Martin, starting to pull the duvet back over himself with a little smile, “I was just looking.”

“Ah, yes. Can’t help yourself, I reckon.”

Martin pulled the duvet over his head and began to burrow under the pillows again. He didn’t really sleep on them, so much as under them. “Mm-hmm.”

“Burying yourself again,” said Tim, nudging Martin again, “like a tarantula.”

Martin groaned, pulling himself out of the pillows and blanket and blearily looking at Tim from inside the blankets. “I’m a sleepy tarantula who wants you to let him stay in his burrow.”

“A cute, fuzzy, sleepy tarantula...”

Martin smirked. “Thought you said you were neutral on spiders.”

“I’m warming up to them. No clue why.”

“Which is good, because they’re  _ really _ important to the ecosystem.”

“Yeah, I know. And I meant what I said. I like how you look when your hair’s like this.”

Martin rubbed one of his eyes. “Mm. You too.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Looks nice when it’s messy.” Martin yawned, and after a little noise as he repositioned himself, buried himself back under the pillows and was content to not move. He was warm, and comfortable, and didn’t want to get out of bed early on a weekend, when he didn’t need to. He heard Tim moving around on the bed, doing his morning stretches before getting ready for his run. He took it a little later on weekends, usually, but didn’t mind doing it at his usual time if he couldn’t fall back asleep. 

Martin would’ve asked if Tim wanted anything for breakfast, in the event he was awake before Tim got back, but Martin was already half-asleep before Tim had even finished stretching. 

* * *

The sound of the shower running down the hall was what Martin heard upon waking up. Martin shifted under the blankets, stretching underneath them. Tim must’ve been back from his run. Martin wasn’t quite tired anymore, but stayed underneath the covers for a little while longer, soaking in the warmth of it.

When Martin finally pulled himself up from underneath the covers, rubbing his eyes and yawning, he heard Tim come into the bedroom, towel tied around his waist and humming to himself. Martin looked over at Tim, and felt heat and color slowly suffuse his face. He really was easy on the eyes, more so when he had less clothes on. His clothes did a good job outlining his features, but it was nothing like seeing them as they were. Tim had nice muscles, and Martin didn’t grow tired of admiring them. Watching them move with him, bulging and straining when he used them. Just as nice were Tim’s softer features, like the give to his arms and thighs, or the pliant weight of his belly. Tim had a binder, and wore it sometimes. Other times he didn’t. It was preferential, really; Tim liked how he looked either way, and so did Martin. 

Tim had walked over to the dresser to begin dressing himself, but clearly felt Martin’s eyes on him. He looked over at Martin with a positively smarmy expression. 

“Looking at me again, I see.”

Martin’s face heated and he swallowed, and then nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

“See something you like?” Tim wiggled his hips, a little sensually, and Martin felt his toes curl inwards when he felt himself begin to respond to it.  _ God damn it, _ he knew exactly what he was doing, and he was having altogether too much fun with it. Tim noticed Martin’s staring, and let the towel drop from his waist. 

“Oh, come on.”

“Oops, I dropped my towel.”

“Shut up,” laughed Martin, “you’re doing it on purpose now.”

“Am not. I’m just not good at holding things. Here, I’ll pick it back up.” Tim bent over, purposefully giving Martin a good look at his arse and thighs. Slowly, gently, Tim reached behind himself, dragging a hand over the back of his arse. Martin felt his cock responding to what Tim was doing, and Martin swore Tim had some kind of read on it, the sheer bastard. Tim gave himself a little smack on the arse and made no attempt to grab his towel. Martin sighed, and reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it off.

Looking over his shoulder, Tim gave one of his dashing smiles, and Martin’s heart and cock softly throbbed. “Oh, I see. Retaliation.”

“You could say that.” 

“You know you’re incredibly sexy.”

“I do know that,” said Martin, beginning to rub around his nipples. Tim watched the movement with rapt attention for a moment, before crawling onto the bed with Martin so he could get a better look. Tim stared for a few moments, making himself comfortable next to Martin and sliding a hand up Martin’s thigh. 

“Love watching you play with them,” murmured Tim, who only seemed partially aware of what he was saying, “you’re never in a rush, you always move them the way I want to see them. I don’t need to say anything. Just need to watch you play with your tits for me. They’re gorgeous..”

“I like how bothered it makes you. You just--you always come over as soon as I start. I never used to be into doing this sort of thing, but--Christ, Tim, you make it feel so good to do, because of how much you love it. I’d--I’d play with them all day if it meant you’d keep looking at me like that. And, I-- _ ahh _ \--I like yours too,” said Martin, closing his eyes as he idly stroked his nipples now, “it’s--it’s nice when you hold them in your hands, and--squeeze them together?”

“Oh, don’t I  _ know _ you love that. The way your eyes get so wide and your mouth opens when I press them together for you, and let you watch me move them around, just for you. Because you do the same for me. I know you love it.”

Martin gave a shuddering laugh, feeling his cock hardening in his pajama bottoms. “Didn’t know I did that, honestly.”

“You do a lot of things like that when I do these things for you. You still stare at my arse like you’re sneaking a cheeky glance at it, looking away as soon as I notice, getting all flustered about it. When you get your mouth on me,  _ god _ , when you get your mouth on me, you look so sure of yourself. Take control of the situation and take me without a second thought. I love it. Love you.”

Tim slid a hand up Martin’s thigh, beginning to pull the hem of the pajama bottoms down. Martin gave a small moan, taking Tim’s and stilling it. He kicked the blankets down, and then placed Tim’s hand back on the hem of his trousers. He watched as Tim tugged his pants down then, freeing his cock and gently running his knuckle along it. Martin gave a small chuckle as Tim pulled them down. “Was that intentional?”

“Hm?”

“A  _ cheeky _ look at your arse?”

“No,” Tim smiled as he gently nudged Martin onto his back in bed, “but I’ll gladly take credit for it.”

“Brat.”

“Maybe.” Tim straddled Martin with a smile, his skin warm and smooth from showering still. After a moment, Tim leaned forwards, trapping Martin’s cock between the both of them. It felt nice, being pressed together like this. Martin was more than half hard now, his cock seeking Tim’s own. Tim adjusted his position slightly, until his cock was pressed against Martin’s. Martin gasped a little, feeling their cocks pressed together, feeling their bodies pressed together. Tim’s body was solid and heavy, and the feeling of his thighs and belly against his own felt good, so good. 

“I love this too,” mumbled Tim, resting his head against Martin’s, “your body’s wonderful. I love how it feels against mine.”

“Tell me more,” Martin said, softly, almost a whisper.

“It just feels like it’s coming from everywhere,” replied Tim, “like every part of me is covered by you. Like you’re  _ there _ . I’d fuck every part of you if I could, every part that’s covered me and made me feel so damn good. The first time we--fuck, Martin, I thought I might die. I just love how you feel against me.”

“I like how you do too,” mumbled Martin, reaching up to tug Tim’s hair, “and I don’t say that often.”

“I know. That’s why it’s...that’s why it’s so _ important _ to me, Martin. That I get to have this with you. That I get to experience how your body feels and looks when you’re so desperate, so ready, and look at you when you’re so pleasured and fucked out.”

“Tim--”

“I mean it. Don’t care how much of a sap I sound like.”

“God, Tim--I love it too. Love it when you--when you hold me, when you’re so gentle.”

“You, or your cock?”

“Both, honestly? When you hold me there, I--god, your hands, your mouth, it always feels so good. I just--I feel like it’s going to bloody explode sometimes, the way you handle it. A-and god, Tim, making it get so heavy…it’s a good thing I’ve never had to walk before you’ve finished with me. Or try to keep it in my trousers, somehow.”

“Shit,” gasped Tim, feeling Martin’s cock twitch against his thigh, “god, it’s hot hearing you say that.”

“Tim--Tim, I need--” Martin gave a small gasp, twitching his hips upwards. Tim pushed back down in response, hoisting himself up again so that Martin’s cock had more room to rut against his own. It wasn’t much of anything; just lazily pressing their cocks together, looking at each other all the while. It wasn’t needy, or frantic. Not so much focus on where each other’s cocks were going, simply where they were. Feeling them slide together and holding on to how it felt. The heavy thickness of Martin’s right up against the sensitive tightness of Tim’s. It felt warm, and right. The climax didn’t come with intense buildup, and wasn't a race. They brought their lips together and kissed their way through it, rocking together slowly. They steadily worked their way up to it with each thrust, arriving at the climax before they even realized they’d made it there and letting it overtake them once they’d arrived. Martin came in lazy spurts over Tim, who followed soon after.

They fell on top of each other afterwards, pleasantly groggy and limp. Tim reached up and ran a hand through Martin’s hair. Physical touch Martin liked, that let him know he was cared for and seen. A way for Tim to show Martin how much he loved him through a small physical action. A hug, really. Martin slung an arm around Tim, around his waist, because Tim liked it when he felt someone else’s body wrapped at least mostly around his. A way for Martin to show Tim he loved and cared for him, too, in a little gesture that meant a lot. A hug, really.

Martin had lost track of time when he finally decided to stretch and press down into Tim, rousing him. 

“I need to get up now,” mumbled Martin, “shower, I think.”

“Mmm. No. Too comfortable.”

“Can I make a compromise then?”

“Maybe.”

“You can join me in the shower, if you’d like.”

Tim gave a small laugh. “Brat.”

Martin laughed back as he pulled himself up. “Maybe.”


End file.
